


Will you be my friend again?

by Brynn_Jones



Category: Quantico (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s02e12 FALLENORACLE, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynn_Jones/pseuds/Brynn_Jones
Summary: This is my idea of what should've happened after this week's episode. Harry accompanies Sebastian to the hospital.





	

“Hold on, Sebastian. Just, hold on,” chanted Harry as he helped the wounded man make the few final steps towards a waiting ambulance. A heavily armed FBI agent was now supporting Sebastian from the other side, though Harry didn’t have any illusions as to why – he wasn’t there to help his friend, he was there to keep an eye on Harry. Sodding terrorists, he swore silently, he should’ve stayed in England.

The paramedics rushed over to them, taking over and settling Sebastian’s tired body down on a stretcher. “Harry,” gurgled the injured man, his glazed over eyes searching out the Brit’s form.

“I’m right here,” the blond assured him, images of a different man bleeding out in front of him flashing before his eyes.

“Sir, you’ll have to come with me,” piped up the agent that had accompanied them.

Harry shot him the vilest look he could muster. “I’m going to the hospital with my friend, you’re welcome to join us,” he bit back, his usual charm nowhere to be found.

The fed scowled, tightening the strap on his bulletproof vest. “I can’t let you do that, sir. Everyone here is to be apprehended and further investigated,” he informed him.

Harry, noticing the paramedics were loading Sebastian in the back of the ambulance, knew his time was running out. “Look,” he said, “I’m an MI6 agent, so if you want to cause an international incident, go ahead. But the only way you’re stopping me riding in the back of that ambulance is if you either arrest me or shoot me.” And with those words, he turned on his heel and climbed on the back of the bus, settling by Sebastian’s side.

“Ha-rry,” the injured man gasped out, reaching a hand towards the blond.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, looking into his friend’s black eyes. “You’re going to be ok.”

Their moment was interrupted by the annoying agent, “You either come with me,” he demanded, “I’m riding with you.”

One of the paramedics, who were trying to stop Sebastian’s bleeding, glared. “We don’t have time for this. Get in or get out, I don’t care, just do it quick.”

Even the fed knew better than to argue with a pissed off paramedic, so he just heaved his armoured arse up and into the ambulance and sat down next to Harry. “I’m going to keep an eye on you James Bond,” he snarked, “if you think you’re giving me the slip, you have another thing coming.”

The Brit didn’t pay him any mind. Had the agent really thought he was a terrorist, he would’ve hardly let him just sit next to a man who had just been shot by one of the terrorists – they were just empty words.

Harry focused on Sebastian’s face again, noticing the man had trouble keeping his eyes open. Jesus, this was just like Elliot, he was going to lose another person he lov-

Harry shook himself, focusing on his friend again. Sebastian’s eyes were closed, his head turned towards the blond. One of the paramedics was working on his chest, patching it up as the other one set up an infusion. “Sir?” the woman working on Sebastian’s wound addressed him, “Do you know what sort of bullet it was that hit him?”

“It was a nine mil Glock, why?”

The paramedic went to answer but was interrupted by the FBI agent, “How do _you_ know?”

Harry gave him a cold look. “I had it pressed against the side of my head just moments before he got shot, so I think I know what it was.”

The bloke scowled at him again, suspicious. “You’re lying. You couldn’t have seen the gun if it was pressed against your head.”

Harry wiped at his temple, where he still felt the ghost of a muzzle, and came away with a greyish tint on his fingers. “The terrorist took the gun from agent Parrish,” he explained, “she’s FBI and you guys always wear the nine mil Glock.”

And with that, for the first time they spoke, the federal agent seemed to look less suspicious of him. “Parrish?” he asked.

“Yes, Alex Parrish,” Harry confirmed, squeezing the hell out of Sebastian’s hand. “There was a... ehm,” he cleared his throat, “a distraction during which Alex lost her gun, the next thing I knew, Carly had it against my temple.”

“Carly?”

At this point, Harry already knew that he had said too much – it was never a good idea to spill everything right away, especially not to cops or the feds - but he also knew that he couldn’t stop now unless he wanted to further implicate himself. Damn it, he was really out of sorts.  “Sebastian’s wife,” he sighed. “She married him as a cover, I guess.”

“Grrghl,” a soft gurgle left Sebastian’s lips, his eyes twitching.

Harry ran his thumb across the back of his friend’s hand. “I’m here,” he told him, “I promise, you’ll be fine, ok? You’re not going to die on me.”

His only answer was a barely-there grunt.

I promise, thought Harry, you’re not going to die on me. Not this time.

 

Sebastian blinked his eyes open slowly, wincing at the bright light that assaulted his corneas, and closing them again. His body was aching all over and despite having clearly just woken up, he felt completely exhausted.  He couldn’t remember where he had fallen asleep, but whatever he was lying on, it was killing his back. He tried moving his arms to stretch out his tightened muscles but his limbs felt like they were weighted down and he couldn’t move them an inch. He let out a frustrated grunt.

“Sebastian?” came a soft whisper from somewhere to his right. “Can you hear me?”

He grunted again, hoping it was a good enough answer.

Apparently not. “Can you open your eyes for me?” asked the whispery voice pleadingly.

And what a weird accent that was, thought Sebastian, it was like the man refused to pronounce the ends of his words.

“Sebastian, try and open your eyes,” the voice was a little more urgent this time, so he tried to pry his eyelids open. He succeeded only partially, blinking a few times, then giving up and closing his eyes again. He huffed.

“That was good,” the weird voice said again, “try again.”

Jesus, the guy was annoying. The last time anyone could get under his skin like this was-

“Harry?” he croaked out.

“Yeah, mate. It’s me,” Harry confirmed, his voice tinged with hysterical laughter, “open your eyes, you lazy sod.”

Sebastian had a different thing on his mind though. “Did Carly shoot me?” he whispered.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, finally prompting the injured man to force his eyes open and keep them that way. He searched out his former friend’s face with his blurry gaze and tried to focus on it. “Harry?”

“Yeah,” the man admitted, not meeting his eyes. “She did. Uh, I’m sorry?”

Sebastian felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “Not your fault,” he murmured, “did they get her?”

Harry winced, still avoiding his gaze. “You shot her,” he said slowly.

“Oh.” Oh, indeed, what more was there to say? His wife was a terrorist and had tried to kill him, he didn’t really know how he should feel about it. He stared at the blond until he looked up. “What about the others?” he asked.

Harry shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest. I went in the ambulance with you, so I don’t really know what happened afterwards. I know Alex is still out there investigating. Also, Will Olsen is gone.”

Sebastian let out a heavy breath, narrowing his eyes at the Brit. “What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be helping out?” he asked. “Or arrested – one or the other.”

Harry chuckled. “Being MI6 has its upsides,” he said, as if that explained everything. And maybe it did. The man always seemed to have an ace up his sleeve. Sebastian shook his head slowly and closed his eyes again. He was knackered.

“I’m really sorry,” whispered Harry after several long minutes of silence.

The wounded man sighed. “Are you really?”

The Brit scoffed. “Of course I am, despite all my reservations about the way you decided to live your life, I know you actually cared about her. I’m sorry she betrayed you.”

Sebastian opened his eyes to look at the other man. “You mean it?”

Harry fixed him with a steady gaze. “I mean it,” he said seriously.

Sebastian nodded, blinking unwanted tears from his eyes. He took in a shuddering breath. “Will you be my friend again?”

Harry smiled. “I never stopped.”

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Does it make me a bad person that I was completely made up about Carly turning out to be a terrorist?


End file.
